


Earthcrosser.

by argenterie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, Poetry, Prose Poem, Sad, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argenterie/pseuds/argenterie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione, riding in the car, that night, with Harry.</p>
<p>Crossing the earth,<br/>the two of them,<br/>the winter,<br/>the engine pumping,<br/>and she wants him,<br/>she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earthcrosser.

25 days ago, Harry moved away.

And Hermione is left, with Ron, but alone, alone.

\---

 

Hermione:

\---

Oh, this is it.

It has been, now, 25 days, since he left, since he left me to myself, since he moved into his next phase, and then, I am just alone, I am just,

me.

 

And he left,  
without regret, without sadness, without ...

without giving me proof.

no proof.

 

\--

Oh, remembering December.

 

The car, the movement, it streams past us. And I feel the air, it’s achingly cold, this moment

and it’s oh, god, the dead of winter.

 

this is what I remember:

\--

tonight,  
you are driving.

so late  
and we have so  
far  
to go.

I am laughing  
and you smile at me  
your eyes,  
dark,  
hooded.

it is just like my dreams.

and suddenly,

I ache for you,  
like I have denied,  
just like I have pretended wasn’t truly there,  
and I am so,  
I am so hot,  
it is winter, and I want you.

 

I know I can’t have you,  
but,  
but.

I want you.

and the moment, though I thought it would just fade,  
immediately,

 

instead:  
it doesn’t fade.  
we are both still here.

and then,  
as if you are reading my mind,  
as if it is happening just like   
I always hoped,  
like I  
have believed,

this moment reaches out, and lives, and exists, and doesn't stop.

and that I can’t separate  
this moment  
from my fantasy-

it is something that I will regret,  
(later.)  
tonight, though,  
it is  
something stuck in the back of my throat,  
something wedged there,  
deep,  
cold,  
icy in the center  
of me.

but here we are  
tonight.

it is so cold.  
it is the winter.

and you are here with me,  
just you,  
and I am feeling so alone,

 

but  
not alone.

(oh, and how that feels so good,  
and how it hurts,  
and how my heart is crushed,  
my chest  
the desperate sadness of feeling alone,  
and then feeling like I am not alone,  
but at the same moment,  
I recognize that it will not last, it will be short, and I will be alone again, afterwards.)

then,  
the gearshift gets stuck in third,  
and I help you change it back,  
because:

 

I am   
already   
mostly   
in love with you.

 

and I can’t tell you this,  
ever.

so I just sit with it, in the passenger seat  
as the car revs, and you look anxious,

and I tell you how to fix it,  
and you do,  
and then we are just driving,  
this highway, empty, dark, glowing and the lane markers flashing past us in the dark,

 

silent,

and the night goes on,  
and we are  
focused on our future.

here’s the wind, again,

the wind across the blackness   
coming closer to me  
speed incredible speed  
and we  
are --

we are  
under   
the sky.

silence like this should not exist  
echoing further   
into the dark.  
and a perfect night  
this deepening

open

world

(wound?)

 

of emptiness.

there is nothing that moves  
except for us  
and all the memories that collide in my mind –

a crash –

 

(my fingers against your arm,  
twirling,  
we are rebelling,  
breaking the rules,

[the tent, that night in the tent, we should not be doing this, but we are, and your arms around me as we danced]

and  
we feel the beat, inside us  
and, every time I imagine it,   
I can hear your heart beating,  
I can feel it,  
it is beating,  
and I feel it, against my cheek,  
and my hands, on you,  
I am undone,  
what a moment,  
what it is to be this alive,  
and my face, against your chest,  
and the beat of your heart, against me,  
and this is it,  
I can’t let this fall away,  
because  
you  
are  
everything  
forever.)

Earthcrosser.

I imagine the explosions that carry us forward.  
the engine, the pistons, pumping,  
(sexual somehow)  
and I am picturing that force,  
as the car slides both of us forward,  
into our fate.

you control this.  
and you are the one   
that is burying me   
deeper into the night.

it’s the dead of winter.

but  
I remove   
my jacket.  
I’m coming apart in my hands.

the wind, the night,  
it all is there, and it   
pushes me.

the car whispers   
along the pavement   
as if it barely touches the earth  
(we are actually flying? aren't we? we are above? we are not even here on the earth, we are above, we are above.)

there’s a sliver  
of dimly shining moon   
beyond the trees to the left  
as we are moving, together, just you and me  
we are moving toward something,

flying away 

escaping.

or,  
exploring.

I don’t wait for anything  
(even now, as you drive us home, I am imagining  
your hands on me, your eyes locked into mine,  
your body alongside me.)

and then,  
as I am picturing myself,  
reaching out to touch your neck,  
reaching out to you, as you drive, and touching the back of your head, and your neck, and just, seeing what that would be like,

imagining, what it would be,  
to touch you, like that.

And  
blankly slick and desperate,  
your right hand sneaks out and touches me.  
(your fingers grazing my leg, oh, fuck, oh god.)

 

the horizon   
melts away before us.

I've never gone this fast.

 

and the song that plays, over the radio,  
it is  
roaring in my bones  
and it  
slashes through me,  
pounding,  
like this excitement  
I cannot hold back.

escaping. (exploring?)

 

I could dissolve, right now.

 

it is   
so black outside   
here we are:  
in the dark   
in the steel and chrome machine

 

time has disappeared  
and I am opened.

huddled from the   
windscapes,  
the trembling that I can’t stop,  
because it’s so cold,  
I am freezing,  
and shaking,  
fear and frozen, all mashed together,

and then, I see my own eyes shaking  
in the rearview mirror.

as the miles crash past us,

your spirit   
numbly, coldly  
(but oh, I can feel your heat, tonight)

your ache, it   
jostles next to mine  
questioning searching.

the few words   
that I can bring myself to speak  
fall glistening  
drifting down  
and pile up between us.

 

the barrier that no one sees  
intangible wall  
wedged there

and,

in this widening silence,  
or flow of time,

 

it brings us closer.

 

and now I can tell you are aching  
you want to be  
explored  
exposed.

here in the crystal night sky  
the road  
crashing   
sweeping past us

escaping.

 

we are fleeing   
from all the worlds   
we have never imagined  
countless wrenching universes   
broken by time  
by explosions beyond our control  
the pistons pushing,  
the engine roaring,  
the night,   
that will never happen again,

this night,

the power of the rage of the mechanism,  
and I can feel it,   
vibrating so deep, inside of me.

and we are, together,  
we are crushed,  
by the inevitability   
of every twisting   
hurtling   
potential 

kiss between us.

I’m flying with the questions  
that I’m not asking.

 

electricity jolts in the blue-black sky  
a shudder a chill  
wracking my muscles  
as I am rushing forward.

there is tension in your arms

and I am imagining, 

you,

sliding those fingers  
along  
my  
anxious  
thigh  
just as simply  
and silently  
as the car  
slides  
along highway   
into the dark.

but you stare ahead,   
and you drive,  
and I am so alone,

 

and nothing has changed,

because it is the same,

the same as always,

(no one would ever love me,  
not if they could have someone else.)

at the end of the night,  
we stop,  
and I unbuckle my seatbelt, thinking, hoping,  
that you will invite me in.

but then you just leave the keys in the ignition, and you look at me for an instant,  
and you get out of the car,  
leaving me,  
and I can tell, in that moment,  
that you never did want me,  
that you never wanted me to come inside.

and that revelation, it is, -- oh -- it is pain,

it is like being sliced into two pieces,  
a swinging scythe, sliding right through my midsection,  
and now I am sitting here,  
watching you walk inside,  
and as I watch you walk inside, I am also, as I look at you, at this moment, I am also looking at my exposed spine,  
which you cut in half,

and I am

I am just so

I am so 

I am alone.

 

and now,  
here,  
I lie,  
(alone, exposed, explored, alive, fucking alive, alive)

some sentient piece of your heart   
embedded in my flesh.

everything I remember  
echoing.  
even now I can imagine your voice,

how it electrified the air,  
that night,  
and other nights, 

and as I hear it, even though you are 

gone,

as I imagine it,

my hands flutter outward  
reaching gasping.

 

and all the pieces that I can remember  
they coalesce to give me shape.

\----


End file.
